


Misguided Affection

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon, Future, Het, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Points of View
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-27
Updated: 2004-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-27 05:58:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12074913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Plot Bunny by Jess--Justin is a bright and intelligent man who is in his last semester at PIFA.  Heâ€™s become an artist in his own right with his show in New York last year.  He has managers and galleries all after him, wanting to be the ones to show the art of Justin Taylor.  But as so many do, he doesnâ€™t allow the limelight to go to his head.  He is still the caring, loving, truthful young man that we all know and love.





	Misguided Affection

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

WARNING: THIS MAY BE VERY DISTURBING TO SOME READERS. IT DEPICTS REFERENCES TO RAPE; ONE SCENE DOES CONVEY HET, DEALS WITH ABUSE, SELF-MUTILATION (CUTTING), DEPRESSION, AND ANOREXIA. IF ANY OF THESE ISSUES AND THOUGHTS DISTURB YOU, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS FIC. ALTHOUGH, THIS IS BASED ON FICTIONAL CHARACTERS, THE SITUATIONS AND FEELINGS ARE THINGS THAT MANY PEOPLE HAVE LIVED THROUGH. READ WITH AN OPEN MIND.

* * *

Prologue

Ever since Justin started interning at the Gallery I work at, I’ve gotten a chance to get to know the artist that is Justin Taylor. I’ve known Justin now for over four years and I’ve never been able to connect with another human being on this level as I have Justin. He inspires me to become a better artist, to find myself in my art, to lose myself in the emotions it creates when you block out everything else except for you and the brush in your fingers and the canvas underneath the brush. 

Justin is a bright and intelligent man who is in his last semester at PIFA. He’s become an artist in his own right with his show in New York last year. He has managers and galleries all after him, wanting to be the ones to show the art of Justin Taylor. But as so many do, he doesn’t allow the limelight to go to his head. He is still the caring, loving, truthful young man that we all know and love. 

Justin connects with me, understands me in ways neither my spouse nor family ever could because he is an artist too. I have hidden away my feelings deep inside of me with no way to release them until now. Justin allows me that release; he encourages me to create, to love my job and my abilities as an artist, to lose myself in my medium. 

Over the last couple of months, I have felt the need to be around Justin, his talent and enthusiasm rolls off him in waves, which I eagerly and selfishly take for myself. I love to sit and talk with him, to hear about his life at PIFA, his plans for the future, the jobs. To hear about the new things he is learning, about his life with his family, and his life with us. 

I feel myself slowly starting to fall in love with this beautiful man. It’s not only his inner beauty that has drawn me to him but his outer beauty has only increased in age. His golden blond hair, his azure eyes that sparkle with emotions, his creamy porcelain skin that would look amazing against black satin sheets, his muscled chest that you can see when he takes off his shirt to create. His slim waist and tight abs, well muscled legs and beautiful ass. Yes, Justin is a walking wet dream, one that I want to lose myself in repeatedly. 

When I was in college, I embraced the fact that I was, am, a lesbian but with Justin, no titles are necessary, I just am. I want that, that right to be who you are without the premise of being labeled or being something someone else wants. I just want to be me, Lindsay Peterson-Taylor.

Story

Lindsay’s POV

I’m working in the back of the gallery, anxiously waiting for Justin’s arrival, I can’t take it anymore, I’ve been playing footsy with him, brushing up against him, dropping not so subtle hits for over two months but he acts indifferent to my advances. Nothing has changed in our relationship; he kisses me on the cheek when he’s coming or going, and how I would love to feel his lips upon mine, his tongue slipping into my mouth. I’ve tried to turn my head at the last moment to capture his lips but he moves to kiss me on the cheek. I rub up against him when I look over his shoulder or when I need to walk behind him in a close area. I love the feel of his body against mine, my breasts pushing into his back, his ass hitting my pelvis. I get excited thinking about exploring his body with my hands and lips. But nothing, he won’t do anything; I think it’s time that I change my approach.

“Lindsay,” I hear my name called, pulling me out of my thoughts. 

“Huh,” I look up into that beautiful angelic face and I can’t help but smile brightly. 

“Are you ok, I’ve been calling your name for five minutes,” Justin says putting his satchel down and moving toward me. 

“Yea, just thinking,” I reply, pushing back from the table and standing up. 

“Ah,” he says, looking down at the film I have on the light board. Quickly deciding to stop with the cat and mouse games, I grab him by the hips and press him against the table. His eyes are wide with shock and he tries to push me away but I move one of my hands from his hips to the back of his neck and bring his lips to mine. He continues to fight, trying to pull his head away but I use all my strength to capture his lips with mine. I run my tongue across his beautiful full lips but he presses his lips tightly together. I pull at the hairs on the back of his neck, his mouth opens, and I dive my tongue into his sweet mouth. I moan into his mouth as my tongue caresses the inside of his warm orifice. When breathing becomes necessary, I break the kiss, staring into his horrified face, I feel the anger well up inside of me. 

“What the fuck,” he asks shocked, pushing me off him. 

“Come on Justin, you know you want it, want me. We’re the same Justin; artist, lovers, and friends, we could have everything. I want everything with you,” I say moving toward him. 

“Lindsay you’re married to Melanie and I’m in a relationship with Brian. I’m gay Lindsay and…and you’re a lesbian,” he says confused. 

“Since when do we care about labels Justin, I want you. I think we could be great together, look how well we get along, everything we have in common. We’re perfect for each other Justin, stop thinking, and just feel,” I say breathlessly, pulling him back into my arms. But his body is stiff with tension and his hands are against my shoulders stopping my progression. 

“No Lindsay, I don’t want you like that. I love you as my friend Lindsay and that’s all. I love Brian and I’m IN love with Brian. I think I need to go,” Justin says, pushing away from me and grabbing his bag but I won’t let him leave, not now. I grab his arm as he moves toward the door. 

“Justin don’t walk away from me. I need you, I want you,” I say pleadingly. 

“Lindsay, I think you have confused our excitement and love for the arts with your love for me. I’m going to go now and I think we should both forget this ever happened,” he says, shaking my hand loose from his arm and walking out of the door. 

I’m not confused, I know exactly what I want, and I WILL get it. With new ideas forming in my head, I turn toward the phone. 

Justin’s POV

I walk out of the gallery as fast as humanly possible wanting to get as far away from that awkward and fucked up situation. I reach into my pocket and pull out a mint, wanting to get the taste of Lindsay off my tongue. I love Lindsay but only as my friend, nothing more. What am I going to do? If I tell Brian he’ll laugh in my face, he won’t believe me. There’s no one I can tell, the only thing that I can do is forget that it ever happened. 

When I finally get home Brian is already there, I look down at my watch and then back up at him. 

“What are you doing home so early,” I ask throwing my book bag down. 

“I didn’t have anything scheduled for this afternoon so I figured I’d spend some time with my favorite lover,” he says moving toward me. 

“I’m your only lover,” I remind him as he smashes our lips together. The kiss is intense, our tongues caressing against each other. I feel myself relax against him, taking the love he is giving me. I move my hands down his body to his hips, pushing him back a little bit, our lips separate, our breathing heavy. 

“I want you,” I say as I move my hands toward his belt. He stops my movements with his hands; I look up at him perplexed, wondering if something is wrong. 

“Later. Right now, we have to get ready for a family dinner,” he says placing another kiss on my lips before backing away. What the fuck, family dinner, when did this happen?

“When was this planned and where,” I ask as I follow Brian up to the bedroom. 

“Lindsay called about an hour ago and it’s at the Muncher Villa,” Brian replies. I feel my stomach drop, I don’t want to be anywhere near her right now, I need time to get my feelings together but if I don’t go someone will question it. Breathing heavily, I resign myself to the fact that I will be in an uncomfortable position for the evening. 

An hour later, we are all seated around the dinner table talking about our weeks. Lindsay is acting like nothing has happened, and maybe like I thought, it was all one big misunderstanding. I feel myself relax into the evening, enjoying being around my friends and family. After eating and talking for a little over an hour, we all settle into the living room to continue our conversations. The guys make plans to hit Babylon after the dinner and Brian and I happily agree. 

“Justin, I want to show you something in the studio,” Lindsay says coming over to me. I tense slightly at the idea of being alone with her and try to think of a way out of it. 

“Can we do it later,” I ask staring at her. She smiles slightly but before she can answer, Brian is pushing me toward the stairs. 

“Justin if you don’t go she’ll pull one of us to go with her and bore us to death with art,” he says smiling. I smile slightly at him before turning toward Lindsay. 

“Okay, just five minutes,” I say. 

“Take your time, I’m going to spend some time with Sonny boy,” He says smiling at Gus. 

Lindsay’s POV

I watch as Brian holds Gus close to him as they settle on the floor to play trucks. I see Justin’s face as he watches Brian and Gus and know exactly what I need to do to get what I want. As we walk up the stairs, I stop Justin and turn him toward Brian and Gus, he watches them intently before turning to look at me, I shake my head and grab his hand pulling him up the rest of the stairs. 

When we reach the attic, I push him in before me closing the door firmly. He backs up into the room, staring at me with wide eyes. I walk toward him as he moves back, not saying anything just devouring him with my eyes. When the wall stops Justin’s backward steps, I take the opportunity to press against his firm body. My mouth salivates with the need to kiss those sweet lips. I move in to claim his mouth but he turns his head to the side, deflecting my approach. I grab his chin forcefully turning him back toward me. 

“Don’t fight it Justin, I will have you,” I say in a calm voice. 

“Lindsay stop,” he says pleadingly. I laugh at his pleas and shake my head no. I move into kiss him again but he turns his head again, trying to push me off him. 

“Either you give me what I want or Brian won’t see Gus again.” He looks at me with wide eyes.

“This has nothing to do with Brian, Lindsay,” he replies, his eyes wet with tears. Using the tips of my fingers, I wipe the tears away.

“It has everything to do with Brian. He has what I want, you. You will do anything for Brian. I think it’s a perfect resolution,” I say smiling. My breasts pressed against his chest, my nipples aching, my hunger for him insatiable. 

“You wouldn’t,” he says trying to push me away again. I grab his wrists, pinning them to the wall. 

“Try me,” I say seriously. He looks at me closely before lowering his eyes to the floor, understanding that I am the one in control. 

I move in again and kiss his delicious lips; he doesn’t fight me as I devour him. I pull him over to a chair, pushing him down; I sit on one of his thighs, rubbing my wet essence against him. I can’t help but let out a moan as the friction stimulates me. I kiss him again hard and move my hands down to cup his dick, I start rubbing my hand up and down his package, trying to get him hard. 

“Get hard,” I whisper against his lips breaking the kiss. 

“I can’t Lindsay,” he says, tears flowing down his face. 

“You will,” I demand, rubbing myself harder against him, my hand never stopping the stimulation against his flaccid cock. His hands are resting at his sides, hanging limply. 

“Touch me,” I demand as I feel my orgasm coming, my womanhood contracting from the stimulation, throbbing, wanting to be filled. He doesn’t move so I squeeze his balls and he cries out in pain. 

“Touch me or I’ll do it again,” I reply. He moves his hands up to my hips holding me as I grind against him. I guide one of his hands underneath my shirt to my breasts, directing him to pinch them, caress them. I grind harder against his leg as my orgasm rushes through me, leaving me breathless, slumped against his body. I feel his hands move away from my body and immediately I feel the loss, I want more! I crave more! 

“Meet me tonight at ten at the Wilshire Hotel,” I demand. 

“I can’t,” he says softly. 

“You will or else,” I say climbing off his lap. He stares at me for a moment, the tears having stopped, his eyes red and puffy. He doesn’t say anything as he stands up, he looks at me again and nods his head before walking past me toward the door. 

“Oh and Justin, take something for that little problem you have,” I tell him. His body stiffens but he doesn’t say anything as he walks out of the attic. 

Justin’s POV

I walk quickly down the stairs wanting to escape from this hell before I throw up on the floor. I feel so betrayed and hurt by Lindsay’s callousness, what am I going to do, I can‘t let Brian lose Gus. I walk past the living room and out the front door, not stopping until I reach the sidewalk. I double over from the nausea and empty the contents of my stomach onto ground. I’m bracing myself against my knees trying to stabilize myself as I begin to dry heave, tears running down my face. I feel a hand caress the small of my back and I jump a little bit from the physical contact. 

“Justin,” Brian says softly. I try to get a hold of my emotions, I don’t want him to see me like this, I can’t explain to him what’s going on, it’s my secret, I can’t tell anyone. Oh, God how am I going to handle this. 

“You okay,” he asks, caressing my back. 

“Yea,” I croak out, my throat sore from the acid. When the uneasiness in my stomach settles, I right myself and move away from Brian’s loving hand. 

“What’s wrong Justin,” he asks stepping toward me. 

“Nothing, I just don’t feel good, I think I’m going to go home,” I say wanting to be alone. 

“Well come on,” he says moving toward the Jeep. 

“No it’s ok Brian; you go with the guys and have a good time. I’ll probably go back home and go to bed,” I say as confidently as possible; when all I want to do is curl up in Brian’s arms, have him hold me, tell me that it’s ok. 

“Are you sure, I could give you a ride at least,” he says confused.

“Yea I’m sure and the bus is fine, I’ll see you at home,” I say. I turn to walk away from him toward the bus stop when he stops me with a hand on my shoulder. I don’t look over at him because the tears are threatening to fall down my face and I can’t explain them, he’ll never believe me. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something,” he asks, breathing against my neck. I shiver from his breath, no matter what, Brian can always excite me. 

“Bri, I just threw up, you don’t want to kiss me right now,” I answer. 

“You’re right,” he says laughing. He presses a kiss against my neck before releasing me. “I’ll be home later,” he says laughing. 

“Later,” I reply and walk away. 

I feel the tears spring to my eyes once again when I think about what happened. How am I going to handle this, what am I going to do to tonight? Well that answer is easy; I’m going to do what she told me too. I can’t take the chance of Brian losing Gus because of me. What happened to the loving Lindsay that I’ve know for the last five years. What happened to my friend, my confidant? I feel so disgusted with myself, I should have stopped her, I could have, but why didn’t I? I’m stronger than Lindsay is, bigger, I should have pushed her off; I should have addressed her advances earlier than now. But I didn’t, I ignored all the caresses and the innuendos because I thought if I ignored them they would go away, she would realize that I didn’t, don’t want her like that. I tried to push her away I did, but I didn’t want to hurt her and if I did, she would have fallen and hurt herself. I couldn’t do that, I couldn’t hurt someone that has always been there for me, who has always been my friend when I needed them, who’s the mother of my partner’s child. I try to block my mind from all of these thoughts, block everything, allow my mind and body to go numb from the disgusting feelings I feel rushing through me. 

When I finally reach the safety of the loft, I move directly into the shower, stripping my clothes as I go. I turn on the water as hot as I can stand it, wanting to wash away the dirtiness of Lindsay’s betrayal. I stand under the hot spray, the water turning my skin bright pink from the heat. I grab the soap and scrub my skin feverishly, I wash myself four times, but the feelings are still lingering there. Deciding the that rubbing my skin raw will not accomplish anything other than raising suspicion with Brian, I move out of the shower and finish my ritual of brushing my teeth. I stare at myself in the mirror for a couple of minutes, not seeing the same person as I did this morning. Where did that person go? Deciding that the answers are not in my reflection I move into the bedroom to re-dress. After pulling on a pair of old pants and a t-shirt, I grab a bottle of water from the fridge. Looking at the clock, I realize that it’s only eight and I don’t have to leave for another hour and a half to meet Lindsay. I feel the tears prickle behind my eyes at what I’m about to do, I push the feelings to the back of my mind, trying to shut everything down so that I can just do it and get it over with. 

Walking into the living room, I notice that the answering machine is blinking and I walk toward it pressing the play button.

“Don’t fight it Justin, I will have you…Lindsay stop…” 

“SHIT,” I yell into the empty loft. I press the stop button and pull the tape out of the answering machine. 

“How the fuck did that get recorded,” I mutter to myself. I quickly stash the tape in my backpack before moving toward the desk; pulling out a new tape, I load it into the answering machine. I look toward my backpack, wondering what I should do with the tape. I consider burning it but think better of it, it may become useful in the future, I could use it to stop this whole ordeal, but it would still be my word against hers, she could say that we were just messing around, that I came onto her, but I didn’t, it was the other way around. But who would believe me? Feeling dejected I pick up my sketchpad but don’t feel the urge to draw, I’ve never felt that way before, I could always use my art as my escape, but this time it feels dirty. I grab my notebook from my backpack and settle back on the couch.

_January 22, 2006  
Today something happened, something that I don’t know how to fix or to get over. Over the last few months of interning at Lindsay’s gallery, she has been coming onto me. I thought that if I ignored it, if I didn’t pay attention to it that it would go away, that she would see what a mistake it was and everything would be okay. But it didn’t stop; today she kissed me on the lips. I pushed her away, told her no that it was a bad idea to forget it and I walked away. I thought that I would have some time away from her, that I could figure out what was going on, that I could ignore everything and it would just go away but by time I got home, Brian was already here and ready to go to the Muncher’s for family dinner. I didn’t want to go but if I didn’t, Brian would know that something was wrong. I couldn’t risk that! How would I tell him that one of his closest friends, the mother of his child was harassing me? I couldn’t do that, so we went to the family dinner and everything was fine, I didn’t think anything was going to happen until Lindsay got me alone in her attic, I tried to beg off but she and Brian wouldn’t let me. She told me that either I do what she says or she wouldn’t let Brian see Gus anymore. I didn’t want to believe her but her eyes told me that she was dead serious. She used me in a way that I’ve never been used. She forced me to touch her as she ground against me. She demanded that I get hard and when I couldn’t she squeezed my nuts. God that fucking hurt. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to be a part of this, I don’t want this to happen, I want to wake up and it all be a bad dream, but that’s not an option, it’s not even a possibility at this point. Either I do what she says or she takes Gus away from Brian. _

_Our conversation from the attic was accidentally recorded, when she pressed me against the wall, I guess the button was pressed and the speed dial was initiated. I have the tape in my backpack, I was going to throw it away but I think that I’ll keep it, maybe I can use it to stop this, maybe if I get enough conversation on tape, I can use it to stop it without Brian losing his son. Well, I have to go now, I’m supposed to meet her at the Wilshire at 10, and I only have an hour to get there. I think I need to stop by the store first and buy a few things. ~J_

Arriving at the hotel at exactly ten, I find Lindsay waiting for me in the hotel lobby, a huge smile on her face. I try to smile at her but my heart and head aren’t in it. I force myself into my safe place, a place that I haven’t used in so long but a place that I frequented after the bashing, just me on the beach with my easel and paints an endless array of canvases. Nothing to disturb me or my tranquility, the waves crashing against the sand, the cool ocean breeze blowing through my hair, caressing my face, the deep blue ocean with white waves, the blue sky with the sun shining above me. My body relaxes as I feel myself led through the hotel but my mind isn’t here, it’s safe and free.

I’m ushered into a hotel room, but I’m not paying attention anymore. I’m painting my lover, my best friend, the only person I know will never hurt me. Brian is forming on the canvas, his beautiful body laid out for me.

“You want a drink,” I hear Lindsay ask and I nod my head, not really paying attention, already too far away from reality. I drink what she gives me, never considering what could be in it. She starts touching me, removing my clothes and the last part of my conscience is gone; I’ve completely shut off my mind. 

When I wake up, I’m alone in the hotel room and it’s almost midnight, I try wrapping my mind around what I’m doing here and where the hell Brian is, when the cold hard truth rushes back to me. 

“FUCK,” I yell into the empty room and jump off the bed, pulling my clothes on as fast as I can; I have to get home before Brian does. Shit! I rush out of the hotel room and down the emergency stairs, needing to get away as fast as possible. Taking a cab home, I pray that I’m home before Brian is. I don’t allow my brain to focus on anything else other than getting home before my partner. When the cab pulls up in front of the loft, I quickly look around for Brian’s Jeep, and not seeing it; I pay the fare and climb out of the cab. I take a deep breath, thinking that I haven’t been caught and rush into the building, running furiously up the stairs and to the loft door. 

Quickly getting into my home, I shed my clothes and toss them in the hamper before getting in the shower again. I scrub myself raw, wanting to wash away the remnants of tonight’s abuse. After four or five times scrubbing my skin raw, I get out of the shower and brush my teeth. Satisfied that I have washed all physical remnants away, I climb into bed exhausted.

_February 26, 2006_

_It has been 36 days since the first time that Lindsay blackmailed me. So many times, I have wanted to stop what was happening, but I can’t. I can’t because every time I try she threatens Brian with the loss of his son. I just can’t be the reason for it; I can’t be the cause of his pain. So, I go through with her requests at least three or four times a week, although now she is requesting four or five times, sometimes numerous times a day. I can’t sleep because I’m plagued with nightmares. I can’t eat because every time I do, I get sick to my stomach. In the last month, I’ve lost ten pounds, weight I really couldn’t afford to lose. Every time I close my eyes, I see Lindsay above me, fucking herself using me as the dildo. My art has changed drastically, what was once was full of love, promise and future hope is now distorted with rage, hate, and pain. Although I paint more now that I have in a long time, it isn’t putting a dent in the emotions I am feeling. I used to be able to lose myself in my art, to let all of my emotions out, but it doesn’t work anymore. Starving myself isn’t working, I want control, control over something in my life, something that nobody else can take from me, but it isn’t working. It’s still there, the anger, the rage just simmering, waiting to blow up. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. How much longer I can stand to be abused, to hide things from the man I love, to feel so inadequate. I know Brian realizes something is going on but he hasn’t asked. And if he did, what would I say? What could I possibly say to explain why when he touches me it feels like her hands on me, when he kisses me it’s her kisses, when he touches my cock it’s her. How do I tell him these things, how do I get past closing my eyes and seeing her face. Get past the mantra in my mind that the minute I get excited, my body shuts down not allowing me the release. How do I tell him that I can’t stand for him, for anyone to touch me? I can’t, I can’t tell him, but how much longer can I do this._

_In the previous pages of the journal I’ve recorded every time I’ve met with Lindsay, I also have recorded our activities, most the time it’s all panting but sometimes she speaks, but I’m never heard. When I refuse to go to her, she comes to the loft, tying me to the bed, giving me the drugs to get me hard for her. I’ve prayed that Brian would walk in, that it would all be out in the open, but who would lose? I would because Lindsay would bat her eyes and claim I’m forcing her to do it. I’ve thought of every scenario to get myself out of this situation, but every idea, every opportunity, Lindsay is there to enforce her leverage._

_I still attend all of the family functions because not doing so will result with more questions from the family. I’ve become remote since this situation started and everyone has been asking me what is wrong. Even Lindsay, playing the concerned friend, Brian is the only one that simply looks at me weird before turning his attention elsewhere. I’m losing everything, including my sanity. Again, I ask, how much longer can this go on?_

_Why God, why me? ~ J_

Closing my journal, I look over at the clock and see that I have two more hours until I lose a little bit more of myself. I pull myself off the couch and pace around the living room, trying to think of something, anything that I can do. Deciding to take a shower to wash off some of the filthiness off me, I head into the bathroom. I turn on the shower; adjusting the temperature to more hot than cold, I sit down on the toilet seat trying to figure a way out of this mess. My five-year relationship is falling apart around me and I have no power to stop it. He knows something is going on, probably thinks it’s another Ethan, but he won’t say anything. No matter how far we’ve come, he still won’t fight for me, it’s still open door, and I can leave anytime I want. Maybe that is what I should do? Maybe I should leave and then everything will stop. No more pain, no more games, no more Brian. I feel the tears come to my eyes and I fight hard to keep the away, I will not be some weak little faggot. I turn my head to the side and something shiny catches my attention. Walking over to the counter I see what has gotten my attention. I pick up the deadly piece of metal, looking at in my hands before pressing it against my forearm and dragging it down. I watch in fascination as the blood seeps out of the fresh cut and with the blood some of the pain and anger bleeds out of me. I make another cut on the other arm, deep enough to bleed but not enough to cause death. Sitting back down on the toilet, I feel my emotions bleed out of me and am satisfied that I have found a new way to deal with everything.

Getting into the scalding shower, I watch in fascination as the blood washes down the drain before I start my religious washing. I feel the best that I have in the last month and I smile thinking that maybe just maybe everything with Brian will be ok. Hurrying along I hop out of the shower and finish my Lindsay ritual. 

Following the same routine that I have for the last 36 days, I head to the hotel and check into the room. As I walk through the hotel toward the room, I start shutting down my mind. Reaching the room, I quickly walk in and strip off all my clothes before reaching into my backpack, turning on the tape recorder, I record the date and all other details of the blackmail as I have done on every incident. After hiding the tape recorder, I take the drugs to get me erect. No matter what I’ve tried, the drugs are the only things that are able to get me hard and sustain an erection until she is done. When she arrives, no words are spoken they never are, I fully shut down, allowing her use of my body. 

Two hours later, I awake but this time I’m not alone, Lindsay is sitting across from me, staring at me, anger written on her face. This is not normal, this is not how it’s supposed to be. 

“What,” I ask her covering myself up, feeling uncomfortable. This is my time; she isn’t supposed to be here. 

“Nothing, I just thought we should talk,” she says moving to sit beside me. 

“We’ve never talked before Lindsay why now? For that matter, how much longer are you going to continue doing this to me? How much longer are you going to use Gus as your blackmail,” I ask standing up from the bed moving away from her. 

“For as long as I want Justin, but that isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about,” she says. 

“Oh really and what would you want to talk about Lindsay,” I ask my anger growing inside me. 

“I want to see you tomorrow, same time and you better be here,” she says standing up, I try to say something but the words won’t come out, I know what she’ll do if I decline, if I refuse. I watch as she walks out of the room before falling to my knees, painful sobs racking my body. I crawl toward my backpack and pull out my fresh new pack of razor blades, pressing it against my calf and sliding it down, I watch as the blood runs down my leg. Emotions much more controllable, I pull myself off the floor and into the shower. 

I arrive at Mikey’s store right on time to work on the next issue of Rage; walking in the door, I’m surprised to find Brian there. 

“Hey,” I say walking over to him. 

“Hey,” he replies, leaning down to kiss me. I can’t close my eyes anymore when he kisses me because every time I do it’s Lindsay’s face I see. 

“You’re wet,” he observes, running his fingers through my hair. 

“Yeah, I just got out of the shower,” I smile slightly at him. 

“You’re taking a lot of showers these days,” he says. I stare at him wide eyed feeling his words as a physical punch. 

“Well I’ve got to go Mikey,” Brian says, not acknowledging me before he walks out the door. My head drops as I feel the tears well up in my eyes and I quickly excuse myself to the bathroom, where I break down, agonizing sobs rack through my body. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever cried this much.

Michael’s POV

I watch as Brian walks out of the shop before turning my attention on Justin. I’ve noticed some serious changes in the boy in the last month; the increased weight loss, the uncommunicative behavior, the lack of affection to Brian, but with all of these changes, I honestly don’t think that this is the same as the fiddler ‘project’. I watch as Justin hurries to the bathroom. I want to know what going on with Justin; I admit for the first two years that he was in our lives I made things difficult on him. But since Brian’s cancer scare and Justin’s unwavering devotion toward him, I’ve allowed Justin into my life. He really is a good guy and only has the best intentions at heart, he funny, caring, loyal to a fault, and always there for anyone of us. 

Deciding that this is my chance to help him as he has helped me so often in the past, I follow him to the bathroom. Standing outside of the door, I hear him sobbing and quickly push open the bathroom door. He’s lying on the floor in a fetal position, his arms wrapped around his knees, trying to make himself as small as possible. I sit down beside him and bring his head into my lap running my fingers through his soft blond hair. 

“Justin, what’s going on,” I ask soothingly. 

“I…can’t…tell…you,” he cries out through hiccupping sobs. 

“Please Justin, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me,” I plead with him. He buries his face in my thigh as the tears continue to fall. 

“I can’t do this…by myself Michael,” he cries. 

“Then tell me,” I ask again. 

“I can’t,” he replies. 

“Is this another fiddler,” I ask him, even though I know it’s not. 

“NO,” he says emphatically, his tears starting to slow down. 

“Then tell me Justin because we know something is going on. You aren’t eating, you’ve lost at least ten pounds, you don’t come out with us anymore, you don’t talk; Justin you have to tell someone what’s going on,” I tell him. 

“I can’t tell you Michael, but you have to believe me that I’m not cheating on Brian, I’m not,” he says pleadingly. I look deep into his eyes, I can see the truth there, and I nod my head. 

“What ever it is Justin, I’m here for you, anytime day or night,” I remind him. He nods his head in understanding. 

“Can I have a few minutes alone, I’ll be right out,” he asks. I don’t want to leave him alone, but there really isn’t anything that I can do if he isn’t going to tell me so I nod my head and leave him alone, closing the door softly behind me. 

Justin’s POV

_March 30, 2006  
It has been over sixty days since the first time and I feel myself slowly start to slip away. I’m nothing but a carcass of the man I once used to be. With the cutting, I’ve been able to regain some of my control in life. If I cut myself before sex with Brian, I’m able to perform for about fifteen minutes before the thoughts and feelings begin to overwhelm me, once the mantra starts and my body begins to shut down, I work feverishly to bring him off quickly. Once upon a time we would have spent hours making love then I would cuddle up against him and fall asleep in his arms, but Lindsay took that away from us. As soon as it’s over, I rush into the bathroom to give myself a new cut, needing to feel the release to control my emotions. When I’m with Brian it feels so good but then my body reacts the same way as it does to Lindsay, it shuts down to protect itself. I don’t know how or why Brian is putting up with me, but he is even if its only a little. His tricking has increased, which I really can’t blame him. He’s a very sexually active man and I’m no longer satisfying those needs. How can he be satisfied with me? I think of all the things that Lindsay has taken from me and I want to hurt her, I want to kill her but more importantly, I want to kill myself. I’ve considered talking my life but I don’t think that I’m there yet. I’m not ready to leave my friends and family even though I don’t think they are really my friends anymore. I really haven’t seen anyone outside of the family obligations except for Michael and Lindsay. _

_Since that day I fell apart in the store I go to Michael after every time Lindsay takes advantage of me, after every time she uses me, takes a little bit more of me for her own self-gratification. My trips to the store are damn near everyday now, except for Sunday’s because we are all together for hours on end. He doesn’t ask any questions just simply holds me in his arms as I cry out the pain, the shame, and embarrassment. I keep wondering what is wrong with me, why is this happening to me, why did she choose me. I had once wished this upon someone else, for them to take this burden off my shoulders, for them to lose everything, but even I can’t wish this torture on somebody else. It is my burden to carry on my own._

_I continually ask her when this will be enough, when will she leave me alone, she says never, never will she leave me alone. I am hers and she is right, I am hers as long as she holds Brian and Gus over my head. But I don’t think it will be that much longer because honestly, once Brian kicks me out, she will no longer be able to use Gus against me. But when Brian kicks me out ,my life will no longer have any meaning, there will be no reason to go on without my love. He is a part of me, my best part. He’s my best friend, someone I used to be able to go to about everything. He’s the only person who makes me feel whole, even now when he holds me in his arms when he’s asleep, I feel at peace, at least until I wake up from the nightmares._

_I’m no longer able to sleep for more than two hours at a time; I’ve learned how to wake myself up from my dreams before I scream out in fear. After waking Brian up more than once, I had to limit my sleep because I couldn’t burden him with my problems. I couldn’t allow this to harm him in anyway. It’s my fault; I asked for this in some way, I won’t allow it to touch him._

_Looking down at my naked body it is covered with fresh and old cuts. I used to be able to hide them but my need to cut has increased, when Brian asks about them I cover and say they are from accidents while molding clay, using the furnace, using too large canvases, I continually make up excuses and he buys everyone of them, never questioning them. Sometimes I wish that he would walk in on me doing it, to find out my dirty little secret but he never asks. He doesn’t even ask about my increased weight loss. He asked me a couple times to eat, but after repeatedly telling him I wasn’t hungry, he left it alone. I can only eat once a day any more than that and I end up throwing it up. I’ve been able to stabilize my weight loss at 115 pounds, still far to little for my body size. Again, he never asks, and I wonder why. Maybe he really doesn’t love me, maybe he never has._

_The only thing good that has come out of this situation is my art. Although it no longer brings me the release that it once did, it has gotten me all A’s on my projects for PIFA and made me a lot of money. My professors have asked why the depth of my art has changed and I have no answer for them, I can’t tell them anymore than I can tell someone else. I relate the pain to the bashing, it’s the only way, the accept it and move on, never asking again._

_My life is nothing anymore, no higher God who is going to rescue me from my damnation, it is me alone in this world, me, my art, and my cuts. The bleeding out of the pain will save me. ~J_

I replace my journal in my backpack along with the numerous tapes that have recorded the blackmail. I stare at it a moment before turning toward the bathroom, every time I write in my journal the pain wells up inside of me and I feel the need to cut. It’s the only thing anymore that keeps me grounded. Sitting on the bathroom floor, my sweat pants pulled up to my knees, I start cutting at my ankles.

Michael’s POV

Since that day over thirty days ago, Justin comes to see almost everyday, needing the comfort that seems only I can give. He cries on my shoulder for no less than thirty minutes before pulling himself together and leaving without a word. I’m at a loss what to do, Justin has begged me not to talk to Brian about this, but I no longer think that is the right decision. What ever is troubling Justin, it’s bad. I’m concerned about my friend, I’m scared for him because the more I try to help, the more he seems to slip away. 

I spoke to Ben regarding this and he thinks that I need to confront Justin about it and if I get nowhere it’s time to talk to Brian. It’s obvious that I can’t handle this alone; I can’t ward off the demons that are stalking Justin. That is why today I find myself standing in front of the loft, my hand poised to knock. Thinking better of it, I pull my key from my pocket and gently slide the door open. I look around the empty living room and walk inside. I walk up the stairs to the bedroom when I hear someone crying from the bathroom. I quickly make my way over to the cracked door and push it open. 

“WHAT THE FUCK,” I yell in horror, moving fast to Justin’s side to take the razor blade away from him. Justin’s feet are covered in blood from the numerous cuts that he has. I quickly grab some towels from the rack and wrap each foot up. I look into Justin’s eyes and he staring at me in shock and horror. Tears are falling down his face, marring the smudges of blood. 

“What are you doing Justin,” I ask more gently caressing his face. 

“Nothing Michael you have to go, NOW,” he yells standing up, trying to push past me. 

“No Justin, we have to talk about this, it can’t go on any longer. You’re going to kill yourself,” I plead with him. 

“Maybe that would be better,” he says softly before turning and running from the bathroom. I try to catch up to him but the little shit is just too fast. Before I know what’s going on, he’s grabbed his shoes and socks and is out of the door before I’ve even walked out of the bedroom. Deciding that I can no longer handle this, I pick up the phone to call my best friend. 

Brian’s POV

Sitting at my desk, I pull out the pictures I keep hidden in my drawers. I caress my baby’s face wondering what is going on with him. At first, I thought that he was screwing around on me, but he isn’t acting the same as he did with fiddle-fuck. This is different, more sinister. His showering habits have increased and he scrubs himself so feverishly that I’m afraid he’s going to rub his skin raw. Often times he has, the beautiful pale skin covered in pink blotches. 

He’s pulled so far away from me, from everyone and I don’t know how to reach him anymore. He’s so fucking far-gone, god I miss him. For a while, he would flinch at my every touch, my every caress but now he will let me fuck him for about twenty minutes, no longer allowing the sweet slow lovemaking we would once enjoy. Even the fucking is frenzied, with the minimum of touch; he won’t allow me to hold his hand, or to jack him off as I pound into him, no more sweet kisses, or kisses at all. Once I have come out of my orgasm he rushes to the bathroom, locking it behind him. I used to wait for him to come out, to ask him what is bothering him, but now I just get up and leave. I can’t deal with this. This what ever it is is destroying him and I can’t stand by and let it, but I don’t know how to stop it either. He probably thinks when I leave him, I’m tricking. But truth be told, I haven’t been with anybody but him in over a year. God, a man that once pissed on monogamy, love, and relationships is now in love with his partner of five years and has been monogamous for over one. Maybe I should tell him that! 

I’ve tried to open myself up to him, to be there for him. I’ve asked him what is bothering him and he looks at me with pain-filled eyes, but won’t tell me what is going on. I ask him to eat, but he says he’s not hungry. He’s gotten so fucking skinny that I can see his ribs. The cuts he says are accidents but I don’t believe him, I don’t know if he’s doing it to himself or if someone’s doing it to him. He has no bruises on his skin, so I think all the cuts are self-inflicted, but I have no proof, and I don’t want to push him, he’s so fucking withdrawn as it is. 

I have to figure out what is going on, if I don’t, I fear that I’ll find him dead in our home. I continue to stare at the picture in my hands, caressing his face, when my private line rings bringing me out of my thoughts. 

“Kinney,” I answer shortly. 

“Brian, we need to talk,” Michael says. 

“Mikey I’m working, we’ll talk tonight at Woody’s,” I say ready to hang up. 

“No Brian, we have to talk now, about Justin,” he says pleadingly. 

“If you’re going to tell me that he’s cheating on me, you’re full of shit. Now if you excuse me I have work to do,” I snipe. 

“I know some stuff that I haven’t told you and if we don’t figure out what’s going on, I think Justin is going to kill himself.” My blood runs cold at Michael’s words and I feel anger well up inside of me. 

“What the fuck do you know,” I yell into the phone. 

“Not over the phone come to the loft,” he says. 

“Is Justin there,” I ask, dread surging through my body. 

“No, he ran out but we need to talk now,” he says adamantly. 

“I’ll be there in five minutes,” I say hanging up the phone. I grab my suit coat and briefcase and walk out of my office. 

“Cynthia, I have a family emergency, I don’t know if I’ll be back today,” I reply walking past her, I don’t give her the chance to say anything as I hurry to the elevator, trying to contain the fury and concern rushing through me. 

Hopping in the Jeep, I break every traffic law in my rush to drive home. I try to keep my mind blank but all of the scenarios and possibilities inundate my mind. Arriving at the loft in a record ten minutes, I jump out of the jeep and run into the building and up the stairs. I reach my floor, pull the loft door open, and see Michael pacing back and forth, wearing a path in my hardwood floors. 

“What the fuck is going on,” I ask my anger no longer containable. Michael stops and looks at me. His eyes reflect worry, pain, sadness and I’m even more concerned now than before. 

“Tell me,” I bark. 

“Remember last month when you and Justin ran into each other at the store,” he asks. I nod my head, telling him with my eyes to fucking continue. 

“Well after you left, Justin ran to the bathroom. I waited for a couple of minutes but he never came out so I went to see what was going on. I found him on the bathroom floor sobbing. I asked him what was wrong, but the wouldn’t tell me. Since that day, he comes to the store everyday and cries on my shoulder. I have to close the store from four to four thirty to comfort him. We never talk about what’s bothering him, I just hold him while he cries, I try to comfort him as much as possible. I told him that he needs to talk to you, or that I would talk to you but he won’t do it. He begged me not to say anything to you, if I did, he said he would stop coming. I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t say anything,” he says with tears in his eyes. I’m so fucking angry with him, with Justin right now, I can barely control myself. My mind is screaming to know what the fuck is going on. 

“AND,” I yell at him, not able to stay calm. 

“Today I came by because I was going to tell him that either he told me or I was going to tell you. When I walked in, I thought the place was empty but as I walked into the bedroom, I heard him crying from the bathroom. He didn’t shut the door so I walked in and found his feet covered in blood, he was fucking cutting himself with a razor blade.” He’s sobbing now and he has to lean against the sofa to stop from falling over. I feel bile rise up in my throat, my heart beating like a fucking snare drum. My knees are weak and I have to sit down before I fall flat on my face. I feel tears slide down my cheeks as my heart breaks with the possibility of losing my baby. 

“Where is he,” I ask, the tears still falling down my face. 

“I don’t know, he saw me and bolted out the door. What do we do Brian,” he asks. 

“I don’t know but I’m going to fucking find out what’s going on,” I say, my anger returning full force. 

“What do we do,” he asks. I look around the room, trying to figure out something, where to start looking for him, when I see his backpack sitting by the front door. For the last couple of months he doesn’t go anywhere without it. I hop off the barstool and grab his backpack, taking it with me to the sofa. Unzipping it, I dump its contents on the coffee table. At least 20 small cassette tapes fall onto the table, a tape recorder, a large black book, several sketchbooks, and art supplies. 

Curious about the tapes, I start with one, pulling it out of its protective covering, I put it into the tape recorder. At first it’s all white noise and I’m about to turn it off when I hear someone moaning. Turning up the volume, I can tell that it’s a woman’s voice, but that is all there is, a woman’s voice moaning, and the sound of skin slapping together. 

“Maybe Justin has gone straight,” I say, feeling my heart break. I’m about to stop the tape again, when I hear a male’s voice, pleading. 

“No, please stop, please,” the voice, begs. “You know you want it, you’re hard for me now,” the woman’s voice says. “No please God stop,” the voice cries out, sobbing in the background. Michael and I look at each other. My blood runs cold as I fast-forward the tape, pressing play the only thing that I can hear is the sobbing. I watch as Michael picks up the large black book and starts going through it. 

“It looks like it’s Justin’s journal,” he says flipping through the pages. 

“Go to February,” I say, pulling out the tape and putting in another one. I press play on the tape, fast-forwarding every five seconds to see if there is any conversation on it. 

“HOLY SHIT,” Michael yells out, flipping through a few more pages, reading more and muttering to himself. I’m about to ask him what’s going on, when I hear some conversation. 

“How much longer are you going to do this to me,” I hear a distinct voice ask. Justin. I feel the fury build up inside of me wanting to kill who ever is hurting him. His voice sounds so small, childlike, and so full of pain. 

“As long as I want,” the voice laughs. I stop dead when I hear the voice, my blood running cold, the breath stuck in my chest. 

“Please no more,” he pleads. You can hear the tears in his voice as he pleads for whatever that is going on to stop. Although, I think I know perfectly well what’s going on. 

“Oh come on Justin, you hard for it, you enjoy it,” she coos softly. 

“You know damn well, why I’m hard. The drugs I have to take are in my system twenty-four seven anymore,” he says bitterly. 

“You shouldn’t need the drugs, you get hard for Brian.”

“Because I’m gay Lindsay, he turns me on. I want him! I love him! YOU, I FUCKING HATE,” he yells. 

“I love you Justin and I just want us to be together. Now you want us to be together don’t you, you wouldn’t want Brian to lose Gus would you,” she’s says seductively. I stop the tape, I can’t hear in more, my hands are shaking so fucking bad right now and nothing I do seems to stop it. I look over at Michael and he’s looking at me with wide eyes. 

“She’s…she’s fucking raping him,” he says shocked. He sounds like I feel. I’ve known Lindsay for so fucking long, she’s the mother of my child but this, this woman I don’t know who the fuck she is. 

 

“Wh-what…does it say in there,” I ask nodding toward the book. He looks down at the book in his hands and then back at me. Contemplating for a few seconds, he gives me the book, the page turned to January 22. I start to read the pages, my heart breaking for Justin. My anger welling up inside of my body as I read each pain filled word. I want to break something, kill somebody, hold Justin in my arms, protect him, and love him. The tears flow freely down my face as I read entry after entry, my mind often wandering from the book to the words being said on the tape before returning to his passages. I’m so full of anger and hate right now, I could break something, line after line, entry after entry, I read each word that Justin has wrote. 

“What time is it,” I ask reading the last passage. Michael stops the tape and looks down at his watch, his face also streaked with tears. 

“It’s three,” he says. “Justin should be at the shop in an hour,” he says before breaking down in sobs. I pull him into my arms needing the comfort that he can give but wanting somebody else in my arms. 

“Let’s go,” I say after a couple of minutes, gathering up all of the things from Justin’s backpack. I know exactly where he is right now and I intend to confront this right fucking now. I want my baby back…if it isn’t already too late. 

“Go where Brian,” he asks. 

“The Wilshire,” I say standing up and moving toward the door. I walk out of the loft not waiting for him to follow me, but knowing that he will. I hear the door close behind me and the bolt turn and then the patter of Michael’s feet running down the stairs. 

As we make our way to the hotel, neither of us speaks. When we pull up in front of the hotel, I throw the Jeep in park before rushing inside and directly to the elevator. Justin wrote the hotel number down in his journal, the same one they use everyday. Reaching room 524, I bang on the door demanding entrance. There is no noise coming from inside, so I bang repeatedly, wanting to be let in, demanding to be let in. Finally, a robe clad Lindsay opens the door, her eyes wide with shock. I push past her knocking her on her ass, as I rush inside the room and find Justin lying on the bed, naked, staring at the ceiling. 

“Justin,” I call out but he doesn’t answer, he just continues to stare at the roof. 

“What the fuck did you give him,” I demand twisting around to face off with Lindsay. Michael has her cowered in a corner, his back to me. 

“I didn’t give him anything,” she says with her wasp confidence.

“We heard all the tapes Lindsay, I know what you’ve been doing to him, the blackmail, everything. Now fucking tell me what you gave him,” I demand again. Her face is a mask of anger and horror as her eyes dart from Justin, back to me then to Michael. I quickly walk over to Justin, pull the condom off his hard cock, and cover his nude body. His eyes have not shifted as he stares at the ceiling, I watch as he chest rises and falls, confidant that he’s just blanked out or fucking tweaked out. I look back to Lindsay, her arms crossed over her chest as she stares defiantly at me. I want so much to fucking hit her right now that I have to clench my hands to my side. 

“Fine, you don’t want to fucking tell me,” I yell at her. I grab her purse and dump it on the bed going through everything until I find an unmarked bottle. I pour the contents of the bottle onto the nightstand and sift through the pills, noticing that some are E and some are Viagra. 

“Are the drugs you are giving him fucking safe Lindsay,” I demand. But she doesn’t say anything as she looks forward, never breaking eye contact. Damn fucking wasps and their cool collectiveness when faced with stress, but knowing how to break her, I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and quickly dial my lawyer. 

“Melanie, get to the Wilshire room 524 NOW,” I bark into the phone. “No, it’s an emergency, drop everything and get here,” I say before hanging up the phone, not letting her respond. 

We sit in silence as we wait for Mel’s arrival. I pace back and forth in the room, stopping every few seconds to check on Justin, Lindsay continue to sit in the chair where Michael has her cornered; Michael’s eyes are darting between the three of us. I look down at my watch and see that it’s a little after three thirty, then turn my eyes back to Justin. If Justin shows up at the store everyday at four, Justin should be waking up soon. The knock at the door brings me out of my thoughts as I move to open it. Pulling it back, I see a very pissed off Mel on the other side. I usher her inside where her eyes get wide with the sight of Justin on the bed and Lindsay sitting in the corner only wearing a robe, Michael standing guard. 

“What the fuck is going on here,” Mel demands. 

“It’s not what you think,” Lindsay cries out. 

“No it’s not exactly what you think, here read this,” I say pulling Justin’s journal form his backpack and turning toward the end of January. I hear a soft moan coming from the bed and I turn to see Justin turning on his side, his body going into a fetal position. 

“It’ll be about ten more minutes,” Lindsay comments. I turn toward her, anger radiating from my body. 

“What the fuck is this. Is he making this shit up,” Mel demands turning toward Lindsay. 

“No he isn’t. Justin was smart and recorded their every meeting,” Michael says angrily. I hear Justin start sobbing and I quickly move toward him. 

“Go the fuck away Lindsay,” Justin cries out moving away from my touch. 

“Shhh, Justin it’s me,” I say softly pulling his head into my lap. 

“Br-Brian,” he hiccups. 

“Yeah baby, I got you,” I say soothingly. He starts sobbing, wrapping his arms around me as he cries out his pain. I look down at his arms, old and new cuts marring his beautiful skin and I start to sob from the pain that I feel. He did this to protect me, to protect Gus. I start rocking him as we cry together. 

Lindsay’s POV

I watch as Brian cradles Justin in his arms and wish that it were me holding him. But at the same time, I want to murder the little fucker for setting me up. 

“What the fuck were you thinking Lindsay,” Melanie demands. I look up at her and I think I finally realize that I’m in a shit load of trouble. 

“I wasn’t. I wanted him but he didn’t want me so I used what I had to get him,” I say quickly. 

 

“You blackmailed him and raped him. It’s all here Lindsay and I’m sure if you we listen to the tapes we have YOUR FUCKING CONFESSION,” Melanie spits at me. I try to move toward her, but Michael pushes me back into the chair. 

“SIT, YOU BITCH,” Michael growls at me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Michael mad like this, especially never directed at me. I feel the tears welling up in my eyes and slip down my face. 

“Save you’re fucking tears because I’m going to nail your ass to the wall,” Brian growls from across the room. 

“Please, I’m your friend, please give me a chance,” I cry. I’ve really fucked up now, why didn’t I stop when he begged me too. Why did this happen. I look across the room at the blond hair buried in Brian’s lap and I feel my anger renew. It’s all because of him, if he would have just wanted me, just let me do what I wanted then none of this would have happened. It’s his entire fault. 

“His friend, you aren’t his fucking friend. You used him to get what you want. You used our son to get what you wanted. You fucking hurt a member of this family to get what you wanted. You are nothing but a vindictive bitch. Too bad I didn’t see it sooner,” Mel growls at me. 

“This has nothing to do with you baby, I love you. Please give me a chance to make it right,” I plead. “I won’t sleep with Justin anymore; we don’t even have to see him.”

“You’re right about one thing, you will never see Justin again, you’ll never come near him again or contact him again, I think you’ve done enough damage,” Michael says. He stands above me, his arms crossed against his chest, his posture radiating anger. I quickly dart my eyes to Melanie who’s going through Justin’s backpack, pulling tapes out. 

“You don’t need to listen to those, please Mel,” I beg. 

“Shut up,” she snaps at me. She puts a tape in and starts to play it, turning the volume up loud so that we can all hear it. My voice moaning on the tape, the sound of Justin sobbing, it’s funny I never heard him crying before, never when we were making love to each other. 

“You have to fast forward Melanie, sometimes you can hear conversations but most of the time, it’s just that,” Michael says softly. 

“NO,” I yell out, not wanting to hear any of this. I try to stand up again, but Michael moves in front of me, pushing me down. 

“You move again and I’ll tie you to the fucking chair,” he growls. 

I nod my head in understanding, turning my attention back to Melanie as she fast-forwards through tapes, searching for conversation. I look back at Justin, his sobbing subsiding as he continues to hold onto Brian like a lifeline. Brian is caressing Justin’s hair, murmuring words to him that I can’t hear. 

“Son of a bitch,” Melanie says in shock, I quickly look toward her wondering what the fuck has her attention, when I hear myself on the tape. 

“It will never be over Justin. If you don’t show up again, I’ll stop Brian from ever seeing Gus,” my voice rings clear out of the tape and I bury my face in my hands. 

“Please Lindsay, no more please,” Justin, pleads on the tape. 

“NOOOOOOO,” Justin screams burying his face in Brian’s lap, his body shaking with sobs. I want so bad to go to him to hold him in my arms, soothe his pain away. But it’s his fault that we are in this situation in the first place, he’ll pay for this. 

“It was his entire fault,” I say with conviction. And it’s true, if he had never worked in the gallery, if he wasn’t so beautiful inside and out then this would have never happened. 

Melanie’s POV

“His fucking fault,” I sneer at Lindsay. “I don’t fucking think so. Lindsay, you blackmailed him, drugged him, and then raped him. He pleaded for you to stop, pleaded for it to end, but you wouldn’t let it go. I should have known something was up all your busy afternoons, your sex habits changing. How could you Lindsay, how could you do that? HOW,” I yell at her. I’m so fucking livid right now. What is going to happen to my family? What is going to happen to Justin? I look over at the brave stupid young man and feel my heart breaking with each sob he lets out. Making eye contact with Brian’s tear filled eyes; I do the only thing that I can. Pulling my cell phone from my purse, I quickly dial the police department. 

“How may I direct your call,” the voice comes on the line. 

“Carl Horvath, please,” I ask. I look over at Lindsay and her eyes are wide with shock. I turn away from her, not able to look at the woman I have spent so much time with, the woman I have been married to for 4 years. 

“This is Carl,” he answers. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I start to talk. 

“Hi Carl, it’s Melanie. I need you to come over to the Wilshire hotel room 524. I need to report blackmail and repeated rape,” I say as calmly as possible although inside I feel like I’m breaking. 

“What are you talking about Melanie,” Carl asks. 

“I don’t want to get into it on the phone, please just…just come,” I beg, I feel the tears well up in my eyes. I’ve lost everything. Everything. 

“OK, I’m on my way,” he says disconnecting the call. I hold my cell up to my ear for a couple more minutes before snapping it closed. I turn towards Lindsay who’s still looking at me wide eyed. 

“Go get dressed Lindsay,” I say. 

“Mel,” she asks. 

“GO GET DRESSED,” I yell at her. She tore our family apart, she has broken everything that we have built, I don’t know this woman, and I don’t know if I ever did. 

The room is quiet except for the soft sobs coming from Justin. I look over at him not able to see his face. I turn back toward Lindsay hating her even more for what she did to that beautiful boy. Lindsay stands up and moves toward the bed but Michael stops her in her tracks. 

“I need my fucking clothes,” she indicates the clothes lying on the bed. Michael looks over his shoulder and gathers up her clothes for her before throwing them at her. Lindsay huffs as she bends down to picks them up before stomping into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. 

“Michael, I’m going to step into the hallway and wait for Carl, you stay here and handle Lindsay. Brian why don’t you try to get Justin dressed,” I say before moving toward the door. Escaping from the madness, I shut the door softly behind me as the tears fall down my face. What do I do now? My life as it was this morning is now gone. Where do I go from here?

Brian’s POV

“Michael can you get me his clothes,” I ask, still rubbing Justin’s back. 

“Justin baby, we need to get dressed,” I say softly. He nods his head against my thigh trying to pull himself together. 

“I’m so sorry Bri, please don’t hate me,” he pleads and I feel my heart break. 

“Never baby, I don’t hate you. I love you so much,” I whisper in his ear. He nods his head, tears still running down his face but the sobbing has stopped. He swings his legs off the bed, but keeping the covers over his crotch. I look down at his bloodied feet and the night of prom comes rushing back to me. 

“OH god baby,” I say kneeling down at his feet, taking each one in my hands. 

“It’s not that bad Bri,” he whispers. 

“It is that bad Justin,” I say. I want to take his pain away, to take all this away then beat the shit out of him for doing this, for trying to protect me. 

“Brian, we need to get him dressed before Lindsay comes back out,” Michael says sitting beside Justin. Justin and I nod our heads in agreement. As we dress Justin, all of his cuts old and new glare at me. Finally getting Justin dressed in his sweats; I sit beside him, pulling him in my arms. The bathroom door opens and Lindsay walks out, her wasp persona intact. Michael quickly jumps off the bed placing himself between her and us. Justin’s body visibly tenses when she comes back into the room. She huffs before sitting her self down in the chair, leaning back as if she doesn’t have a care in the world. 

We sit in uncomfortable silence, Justin leaning heavily against me, Michael standing guard, protecting Justin from Lindsay. When there is a knock at the door, I breathe a sign of relief, hoping that I can get Justin out of here soon. 

Michael moves toward the door, still keeping one eye on Lindsay. Turning to look over my shoulder, I see Melanie and Carl walk back into the room. I stare at Melanie and see the pain etched on her face; I didn’t realize how much pain this would cause her, I only wanted to protect Justin. 

“What’s going on here,” Carl asks looking around the room. I’m about to open my mouth when Melanie starts talking. 

“We have proof that Lindsay was blackmailing Justin for sex. We have tapes with Justin begging her to stop, proof of repeated rape,” Melanie says flatly, walking over to Justin’s bag and gathering up all the ‘evidence’. 

“Is this true,” Carl asks shocked. Since he and Debbie have been living together, he has become a big part of our family, witnessing all of our family fights as well as celebrating all of our successes. 

“It’s all bullshit, he wanted it,” Lindsay yells standing up from her chair. Justin tenses up beside me but squares his shoulders and looks directly at Lindsay. 

“You were my friend Lindsay. I loved you as my friend and you used that against me. You took away my life, my right to choose, you used me. Over two months ago, she started blackmailing me for sex. She said that if I didn’t submit she would make sure that Brian never saw Gus again. I know that I should have stopped it but I didn’t want to be the reason for their relationship breaking up. When I got home after the first night it happened, I noticed the answering machine blinking, when I played the tape, I heard the first incident with Lindsay. I was going to destroy the tape or use it to show what she was doing, but I didn’t, I was afraid it would be turned against me. Ever since then I kept a tape recorder in my bag and recorded every incident, I also documented them in my journal,” Justin says, tears running down his face but his voice remaining strong throughout the entire explanation. I’m so fucking proud of him at this moment, being able to keep it together, to get through the first hurdle of reclaiming his life. Carl looks around at all of us, his face shocked before turning toward Lindsay who stares defiantly at the accusing eyes. Carl walks over to her pulling out a pair of handcuffs. 

“Lindsay Peterson, you are under arrest for blackmail and rape…” Carl reads Lindsay her rights as we all watch in silence as he cuffs her hands behind her back, her head falling forward, her eyes cast to the ground. 

“Justin, we’ll need you to come down tomorrow to give a full statement,” Carl says looking over at us. 

“He’ll be there,” I answer for him. 

“Melanie, please.” Lindsay cries, alligator tears falling down her face. I watch as Melanie walks toward her, stopping directly in front of her, raising her hand she slaps Lindsay across the face. Lindsay’s face turning toward the side from the impact, she turns back to Melanie, her eyes wide with shock. 

“Did you stop when Justin begged you too? You are getting exactly what you deserve, you did this, not him, YOU. I don’t know you, I don’t know if I ever did,” she says before walking away from her. Carl grabs Lindsay by the arm, picks up the backpack with all the evidence, and moves toward the door. Neither Lindsay nor Carl saying anything more as the door shuts softly behind them. Justin leans heavily against me, tears running down his face. I wrap him in my arms, wanting to comfort him. 

“I’m going to go now baby,” Melanie says squatting down in front of Justin. 

“I’m sorry Mel,” he cries to her. She pulls him into her arms and holds him. 

“It wasn’t your fault. Nothing you did was your fault. You should have come to us, but I know that you were scared,” she says soothingly, rubbing up and down his back. 

“Gus,” he asks, pulling back from her brace, snuggling back into my arms. 

“Why don’t you and Brian come over tomorrow and see him,” she offers. He nods his head, a small smile playing across his lips. I don’t think I ever realized how much Justin truly loves us; he endured so much for us. 

“Thanks Mel,” Justin whispers. 

“See you tomorrow,” she says moving away from us. I watch as she walks away from us with slumped shoulders. Justin has lost more than us, but Mel has just lost everything. 

“Bri,” Justin says quietly. 

“Yeah?”

“Can we go home, I…I can’t stay here anymore,” he stammers. I hug him to me, kissing his temple. 

“Yeah baby lets go home,” I whisper standing up, pulling him with me. He whimpers slightly when we start walking toward the door, I look over to him and see him limp slightly. I bend over and pull him into my arms, his head cradled against my shoulder, his arms wrapped around my neck. 

“I got you baby, I’m never letting you go,” I whisper in his ear as I carry him out of the room. Michael holds the door for us and then walks beside us, his hand resting on Justin’s shoulder.

“Michael you drive,” I say walking up to the Jeep. I place Justin down gently, as he leans heavily against me. I reach into my pocket and toss the keys to Michael, after releasing the door locks. Opening up the passenger side, I move Justin into the backseat before crawling in beside him. Getting comfortable, I pull Justin back into my lap, holding him to me, caressing the back of his neck. 

“I love you baby,” I whisper into his ear. 

“Love you too Bri,” Justin mumbles and those words have never sounded so true. 

Justin’s POV

Resting in Brian’s arms, I feel safe for the first time in two months. I honestly didn’t think that I would ever feel this safe again. Thinking about everything that has happened in the last two hours, I’m relieved that it is finally over. I’m sad because our family is going to go through some major changes, but if something didn’t give eventually, I don’t think that I would have chosen to live. I know that I should have stopped it early, I had the proof, but I still didn’t think that anybody would believe me. I was afraid that Lindsay would turn it around on me. Thinking back to this morning, I was pissed at Michael for invading my privacy but now I’m just grateful. He really has become a good friend. And Brian continues to amaze me, I was so sure; that he would turn his back on me, but here he is standing beside me, defending me, loving me. I don’t think that I will survive without him by my side. 

“Should we take him to the hospital,” Michael asks from the driver’s seat. 

“No, no hospital,” I say. 

“Justin, the cuts on your feet are pretty bad,” Brian says soothingly. 

“If you take me to the hospital with self mutilation, two months of ecstasy and Viagra in my system, they are going to lock me in the psych ward. No hospital,” I say adamantly. 

“Take us home Michael,” Brian says. I relax further into his arms, tipping my head up to see his beautiful face. He leans down to kiss me and I feel myself panicking.

“I just want to kiss you. I haven’t gotten to kiss you in so long, please let me kiss you,” Brian pleads tears in his eyes. 

“But you’ll taste her, I don’t want you to taste her,” I say crying. 

“No baby, I’ll taste you, I want to taste you,” he pleads with me. Pushing my fears aside, I reach up pressing my lips against his. Not really kissing but more as breathing the same air, slowly I move my lips down and suck his bottom lip into my mouth, tasting his unique flavor of mint, cigarettes and beam. His lips part and I tentatively push my tongue inside, caressing the inside of his mouth. Slowly his tongue tangles with mine, exploring much more than the depths of each other’s mouth. When breathing becomes necessary, I lean back from the kiss and look up into his beautiful face. 

“Thank you baby,” he whispers against my lips, tears running down his face. Caressing the side of his face, I smile slightly at him before laying my head back down on his chest. I must have fallen asleep because the next time I awoke, Brian was carrying me into the loft. He goes to place me in bed but I start shaking my head. 

“No Brian, I need a shower, please let me take a shower. I have to …I have to wash HER off,” I say, silent tears running down my face. He nods his head in understanding before carrying me into the bathroom. 

“Mikey we are going to take a shower. You can stay with us tonight or you can go home,” Brian calls over his shoulder. 

“I think I’ll stay Brian, I’ll just call Ben and let him know,” Michael says before Brian shuts the bathroom door. He sits me down on the floor before turning on the shower, setting it very hot. 

“This is the last kind of shower like this,” he says gently turning back toward me. I nod my head in agreement before bowing my head, trying to hide my shame. 

“Hey, you have no reason to hide,” Brian says cupping my chin. I nod my head but keep my eyes cast down. “Look at me Justin.” I slowly raise my eyes, meeting his. 

“Don’t hide from me anymore,” he whispers before helping me undress. He quickly pulls his clothes off before guiding me in the shower. I reach for the soap, but he takes it from my hands and replaces it back on the shelf. Picking up the shampoo, he pours a generous amount in his hands before lathering it into my hair, is hands massaging the soap into my scalp. My body relaxes under his ministrations, my head tilting back. He guides me under the steaming hot water and rinses my hair before picking up the body wash and pouring it into the loofah. He gently washes my entire body, wiping away all traces of Lindsay’s smell and sweat. I wish that it would also wash away the memories that I’m left with. After washing me thoroughly he guides me out of the shower, my body leaning heavily against his. I’m so fucking exhausted, I feel like I could sleep for a week. He soothingly dries me off and helps me dress in a pair of boxes before guiding me to bed. 

“Baby, lay on your stomach,” Brian whispers in my ear. Too tired to argue, I crawl into bed, my head tilted to the side, my arms resting at my side. I feel him pickup one of my feet, then a cool balm is applied, he gently rubs the balm into my skin, mindful of the cuts. He repeats this action on the other foot before carefully moving up my legs massaging my tense muscles, my calves, my thighs, my lower back, my shoulders, and then each arm. I feel myself melting into the mattress as sleep claims my lax body.

_I’m wandering around in the darkness, trying to find a way out but everywhere I turn Lindsay is standing there laughing at me. I plead for her to leave me alone, to allow me to have my life back but she starts moving toward me like a cat stalking its prey. I feel as if there isn’t any air in the room, I turn around and around in circles, looking for away out…_

Sitting straight up in bed, gasping for air, my body covered in a light sheen of sweat, I force my eyes to focus on my surroundings. Looking around I realize that I’m safe in the loft and Lindsay can’t harm me here. But she has a key, she can get in…I feel the panic start to rise up in me, bile rising up my throat. I quickly jump from the bed and run into the bathroom, throwing up the contents of my already empty stomach. I sit there for ten minutes, trying to get control of my breathing, willing the nausea away before I feel safe enough to move away from the toilet. I feel the tears prickle behind my eyes, the unbelievable pain wanting a way out. I push myself off the floor, walking toward the bathroom door; I gently close it before rummaging through the drawers for a fresh razor. Finding my vice, I sit down on the floor, leaning against the wall, looking for a fresh place to cut, just needing to feel the release that only bleeding can give me. Looking for undamaged skin takes some time, each arm being out of the questions as well as my ankles. Roaming my eyes across my body, I look at my inner thighs unmarred by any cuts. I press my blade into my skin but before I can pull it down, gratifying the ultimate release, the razor is gone.

“What the fuck are you doing,” Brian yells at me. I pull my legs up into my body, wanting to disappear. 

“I…I needed…it,” I cry out, burying my face into my lap, trying to escape his scrutiny. I feel Brian wrap his arms around me and pick me up, I wrap my arms around Brian’s neck, trying to crawl inside of him. He carries me into the bedroom gently lowering me down but I hold onto him, not wanting to let him go. 

“Please don’t let me go,” I cry. 

“I’m not baby, never letting you go,” he whispers in my ear, maneuvering us so that I’m nestled in his arms. 

“Michael, can you search the bathroom for any razors and throw them all out,” I hear Brian say. 

“Justin, do you have any razors hidden anywhere else,” he asks me gently. 

“My backpack, in the kitchen, in my desk, in my underwear drawer and in my nightstand,” I say quietly. 

“Fuck Justin,” Brian replies. “Michael there is some in the kitchen, in his desk, in his nightstand and underwear drawer. Find all of them and take them out to the dumpster,” Brian orders. We sit in silence for a few moments, I wonder what he’s thinking, what he’s going to do with me. Is he still going to love me? Am I still loveable? What if he doesn’t want me anymore? With the garbled thoughts running through my mind, my body convulses with heavy sobs, tearing at my heart. 

“Shhh, baby I got you and I’m not letting you go,” Brian whispers against my head, rocking me back and forth. Not able to control the sobs ripping through my body, I stop fighting them, letting them go. Brian never lets me go, just holds me, and lets me cry out my pain as the awful memories flood through my mind. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I jump slightly from the touch. 

“It’s just me Justin, Michael,” he says softly, rubbing my shoulders. We sit in silence, only my sobs echoing around the loft until they slowly start to subside, Michael and Brian comforting me. 

“Why Justin, why do you hurt yourself,” Michael asks once I regain control. 

“I…I don’t know,” I whisper. 

“That’s not an answer Justin,” Brian replies. I take a deep breath, blowing it out slowly, wondering if I’m able to let them into the dark recesses of my mind. 

“It feels good. I have so much pain and anger inside of me, it gets to be too much. The anger, the betrayal, the hurt, the unbearable pain, it’s just too much, I can’t handle it alone. I can’t eat and I can’t sleep, I didn’t know what to do. I remember I was sitting in the bathroom, and I saw the metal reflecting from the light. I picked it up, holding it in my fingers, running my fingers along the edge. I tested it against my forearm and when my blood started to run down my arms, I felt some of the pain bleed away. It felt so good, so I started to do it when it started to get too much, then I started to do it because I needed to feel the physical pain to smother the emotional.” 

“Why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you trust me,” Brian asks. 

“I didn’t want you to put in the position of choosing, I didn’t want to be the reason you lost Gus. I didn’t want take the chance of you not believing me,” I whisper. 

“But you didn’t give him a chance,” Michael replies. 

“I was scared. Lindsay is the mother of his child; they’ve been friends for a long time. She has never done anything like this before and she had the means to take something precious away from Brian, I couldn’t take the chance. I couldn’t take the rejection.”

“If you would have brought the first tape to me, I would have believed you Justin. Yes, Lindsay is, was my friend. But baby, I know you. You wouldn’t lie about something like that,” Brian says. 

“I’m so sorry Brian, please forgive me, please,” I cry out, hugging him close to me. 

“Justin, there is nothing to forgive. But no more, you can’t hide things from me, even if you are trying to protect me. I need to know what is going on with you, I can’t lose you Justin. But you have to promise me you won’t hurt yourself anymore, please promise me,” he begs of me. 

“I don’t know if I can Brian,” I whisper. 

“I’ll do what ever we need to, to keep you safe baby. We’ll go to therapy if you want; although I think, we really need to. But please baby, at least talk to me before you do it. No matter the time, please come to me first.”

“Or me,” Michael offers. 

“I’ll try Brian,” I offer. It’s the only thing that I can do right now. “I think therapy is a good idea,” I say sleepily. 

“Thank you baby,” he says kissing my temple. I fall asleep in the arms of the man I love; hoping, and praying that life will get better form here on out. That the pains that I’ve lived through for the last two months, will soon become a memory, one that has forever changed my life but maybe will make me into a better man.

_September 30, 2006  
It has been six months, long and painful months since that fateful night. Even though Lindsay was no longer able to hurt me, the pain didn’t stop or go away. I thought that everything would go away, that once the act was stopped that it wouldn’t hurt anymore, that it would disappear. But it didn’t, it only got worse. I started therapy alone at first but when I wasn’t able to function without Brian’s support, he started coming to all of my sessions. It was heart wrenching on both of us to divulge all the painful details of those two months. Brian was angry at me for not trusting him, for not letting him in to help me, for physically harming myself; he asked me one day why I hadn’t just killed myself. He asked it with tears running down his face, I felt my heart break because of the unintentional pain that I caused him. I explained to him that I didn’t want to kill myself that I wanted to live but that I didn’t know how to deal with anything. That was just the tip of the iceberg as we tore into each other about the last five years of our relationship. Even though it had been extremely painful, in the end we are closer now that we have ever been. We’ve reached an understanding with each other and are able to talk about our thoughts and feelings. Imagine Brian Kinney openly talking to me what he thinks and feels; although he isn’t the same with anyone else, with them he remains cool and aloof. _

_Our little family has taken the news of Lindsay’s betrayal hard, I don’t think that we have fully healed from her deceit but we are still working on it. Lindsay was sentenced for her crimes, she pled guilty to felony rape and misdemeanor blackmail, she was sentenced to no less than 15 years and no more than 27. I didn’t have to testify as to what she did to me because of the journal entries and the tape recording. She plea-bargained down to lesser charges but ultimately the judge was not sympathetic and sentenced her to the maximum. That night we went home, held each other, and reflected over what had happened to us. Although it was a victory on our side it didn’t much feel like a victory, it felt more like our apart of our family was ripped apart._

_Melanie, Brian, and I have become a close family raising Gus together. After Lindsay’s indictment, Family, Youth, and Services petitioned the court for Lindsay’s parental rights to be terminated. We discussed everything as a family before the hearing. Although Lindsay had hurt me, she had never hurt Gus and I didn’t want to be the cause of Gus losing his biological mother. Melanie pointed out that she had used Gus as a means to get what she wanted, what’s to say that she wouldn’t do it again, that she wouldn’t find another unsuspecting soul to manipulate or to say that she would actually start her mental abuse and manipulations on Gus himself. Brian refused to see any other choice but to terminate her rights, he didn’t want his son growing up in any fashion has he had. Not knowing the extent of Lindsay’s own mental stability, we stood together on the state’s side to terminate Lindsay’s parental rights. It was a hard and painful day when the judge ruled. Lindsay was in the court, witness to the proceedings. We heard her sob filled pleas to the court to give her a second chance. She promised that she would never do anything to harm her son, but in the end, the judge didn’t trust Lindsay’s word after hearing what she had done to me. I felt so guilty for what I had done, for not stopping it before it even started. It took a long time before I believed what the family as well as my therapist was saying. It didn’t matter what I had done, or that I didn’t take the proof that I had to the police, in the end Lindsay would have done anything that should could to get what she wanted. There wasn’t anything that I could do._

_Brian’s parental rights were reinstated and although Melanie has full custody, we have visitation rights and see Gus four or five times a week, often keeping him for the weekend. Although the young boy is confused where his Mommy is, the family has rallied around him supporting him and loving him. It isn’t going to be easy on him and maybe someday he’ll hate me because I caused his Mommy to go away, right now he’s adjusting okay. Melanie has had a hard time adjusting to being a single parent and a partner in a law firm as well as dealing with the loss of her wife. She’s taking steps slowly at getting back out there, trusting people again, but it’s going to take time, just as it will with all of us. I think after this ordeal, we have all become more cautious of who we allow into our fold, who we trust with our family._

_Me, I’m taking it one day at a time. It has been a hard road to travel but with Brian and my family by my side we’ve been able to overcome a lot of the pain that was caused not only from this most recent trauma but also from the last five years. It’s been hard but isn’t every road worth traveling hard? I kept my promise to Brian about my self-mutilation, I was calling him or Michael almost every hour for the first two weeks, and when Brian was home, I had to be in constant contact with him by either touch or sight. The urge was just too strong but with therapy and feeling safe once again, the need slowly started going away, becoming less frequent till it wasn’t necessary anymore. Looking back now, I don’t understand how I could have done that to myself or to Brian but it was one more thing that we’ve overcome together. All of the cuts were superficial and left a very faint or no scar, but there are some there, that I can feel and see, a constant reminder of what happened to me, what I allowed to happen to me. I’ve regained most of the weight that I lost during those two months but I’m doing it in a healthy way. Eating the recommended calories but also exercising so that it doesn’t just turn to fat. I go with the guys now four days a week to work out, it feels good to exercise, and I find that it’s an excellent release for me. Even though I may be recovering and overcoming the trauma, I still have days, that it still overwhelms me. But those days that it happens, Brian is there for me, holding me, talking to me. I don’t know if I would have gotten through it without him. Sure, I may have lived but what kind of life would I have had?_

_I graduated in May from PIFA at the top of my class and my career is taking off. I am scheduled for the next three years with shows but I’m also working in the top Graphics Firm in the country. It’s refreshing to be able to use my talents for my own self-gratification but also to use it commercially._

_Sexually, I’m slowly coming back around. Although Brian and I haven’t had intercourse in over six months, we’ve slowly started exploring each other with our hands and mouths. My mind no longer shuts down during sexual stimulation and the mantra that I once repeated to myself has quieted down. I think that I am finally ready to take that next step with Brian, to go back to the relationship that we once had._

_There is that saying that is so often repeated: What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I never completely understood that saying until now. Brian is the man he is today because of the abuse he suffered at his mother and father’s hands. I’m a stronger, more confidant man today because of my love for Brian, the bashing, and the abuse I endured from Lindsay. Most people are faced with some type of abuse or adversity in their lives at one time or another, but it is only you who can choose what path you will follow. We can live but not live or we can face, overcome, and survive our own abuse, living life to it’s fullest, not allowing the things from the past to destroy us. I chose to live; I will not allow this or anything else to destroy me! I chose to survive._

_As one chapter of my life ends but not forgotten, I embrace the present and look forward to the future. ~J_

“You done baby,” Brian asks wrapping his arms around my shoulders. I lean back into his embrace, resting my head against his strong shoulder.

“Yea, I think I am,” I reply tossing the pen on my desk. Pulling me away from my chair, he pulls me into his arms, hugging me tightly. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispers into my ear. I lean back from his embrace and stare into his eyes before claiming his lips in a deep kiss. I wrap my arms around his tall, strong body, pulling him closer to me as he runs his hands down my bare back, resting his hands on my hips. 

“I want to show you how much I love you,” I whisper. He smiles against my lips before kissing me with all the love and passion that he has for me. Never breaking from our kiss, he walks us to the bedroom to reclaim our lives.


End file.
